There's this place called "Bullseye" that I am constantly forced to go to because it's the only place close to my house that ships UPS. It's a gun store and it's filled with the kind of guys that wear combat fatigues and are probably still convinced that there are "commies" everywhere. Everyone in the store looks like the neighbor Tom from Beavis and Butthead and his veteran friend that owns the bar.
So every time I enter this store I feel a bit uneasy as I peruse the glass cases nearly bulging at the seams with hand guns and the racks of machine guns. Machine Guns! They actually sell machine guns! One thing that worries me is that what looks like a pretty damn nice machine gun only goes for $600 or $700. What worries me more is that I have a credit card and could easily just purchase a machine gun, some ammunition and just walk out into my city and start shooting people. How many people do you think I could take out before the cops got there? Six or seven hundred dollars worth I would wager.
As I wait for my UPS order to be processed I am entertained by a story that the guy who runs the store is telling some of the guys who are always hanging out there. It goes a little something like this:
PATRON: What happened to your arm?
OWNER: Yeah. I had to teach this shit that was in here a thing or two. I told him... 'Yeah cigarettes don't hurt, look.' And I put it out on my arm. He had these wide eyes like he couldn't believe what I was doing. Then he asks me: 'That doesn't hurt?' and I say: 'No. It's just a cigarette. You can't get hurt by a little cigarette.
OWNER: Yeah. Kids.
Visit the NRA Headquarters online to order this handsome shirt for your baby. Remember: Teaching children that killing is our right as an American is and important part of your child's early cognitive development.
The owner then gave me a pen and said: "Print... because I want to be able to read it." As anyone who has seen my penmanship (Our friend Yahtzee has criticized me for this) can verify I have some of the worst penmanship this side of Paul. I do not have the ability to write well, I just can't do it. I don't know what kind of thing has to be present in your life to allow you to write legibly but I can assure you that I do not possess it. Having said that, it is amazing what the fear of being shot can make one do. That and spending twenty minutes writing a name and address.
I glanced over to my left and saw a giant poster of Charlton Heston literally covered in children. It looked as if they may be pouring down on him from the sky. In big letters at the top of the poster is said something like: WE NEED TO PROTECT OUR FREEDOM.
The children and Charlton Heston were all smiling and seemed to be having a lovely time. Unfortunately I couldn't find a picture of this poster online anywhere but believe me when I tell you that it was more than a little scary. I started wondering if those kids were actually friends with Charlton Heston or if he was using them as a human shields.
This was probably my most frightening experience yet while trying to ship UPS but I had made it out alive once again and I would continue to patronize Bullseye because it's worth risking your life to shave five minutes off of your driving time.